


Something so magic about you

by YourKnightOfRage



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: 4+1 format, Cultural Differences, Domestic, First Kiss, Get Together, M/M, The writer is doing nothing but try to out tender themself, What’s sexier than wizards NOTHING, canon until episode 90, hozier was playing every second of writing this, so the nein are mentioned mostly in passing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-02
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:47:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22532701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YourKnightOfRage/pseuds/YourKnightOfRage
Summary: Four times Essek resisted Caleb's flirting and one time he didn't.Also known as one time Caleb knew he was flirting and four times he had no idea
Relationships: Essek Thelyss/Caleb Widogast
Comments: 218
Kudos: 946





	1. Babe, there's something lonesome about you

**Author's Note:**

> Welp, guess who's back after over a year of barely being able to string two words together??? Admittedly I don't have the story developed as much as I would like, but come on. 200 Shadowgast fics? must hop on that train.
> 
> I wanted to thank the Essek Fanclub Discord Server for allowing crit role and yer best boi Essek to consume every waking hour of mine and also helping me polish out this idea.
> 
> I would also lik to take the time to say that while this first chapter is somewhat short, I promise the next ones are longer.

The first time it happened Essek knew he was being used.

There was no questioning it.

The Mighty Nein had needed help, and they had been particularly irksome with their muddy information. So Caleb tried to soothe his nerves.

In retrospect Essek would wonder if he’d been quite so obvious about his regards for the wizard. The drow would look at his actions and wonder if he’d lingered too long on Caleb when addressing the Nein, if maybe he’d been too accomodating with him. What had given him away?

In the moment, however, he didn’t have time to think.

What he knew was that he felt insulted. Such manipulation was transparent and jarring. If Caleb wanted to play him he could at least put some effort in it.

When Caleb held his arm Essek drew it away, and he did not bring it up again. Essek did not discuss nor think of it at all. He simply immersed himself into work again with the Mighty Nein in a place that pleased them this time.

He did not think about that moment again.

He did not linger on how the warmth from Caleb’s palm reached his skin, foregoing the layers of clothing entirely, and he definitely did not catch himself reaching for his own arm, foolishly trying to capture that warmth again, for just one moment.


	2. Something so wholesome about you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's two am and i am longing for the feeling of longing. Have some shadowgast.
> 
> Also, Imma take the chance to say: HAPPY BIRTHDAY JAK!!!!!

In the past Essek had observed as Caleb transcribed from his spell book.

He had ensured that Caleb would not gleam even a comma more than what Essek thought him deserving of. In doing so he had taken note of many things, besides Caleb never trying to breach his trust. For example: his penmanship was objectively satisfying. Caleb wrote in a quick and steady rhythm, filled with sharp strokes and pointed precision. Even the times when he needed to dive back into the inkwell added to his melody.

He did not falter nor hesitate, despite the material being foreign to him.

It was nothing short of intriguing. Essek wanted to test Caleb's abilities, thow his most powerful spells at him and watch as he made sense of them. Would he still be as brilliant, still take in each arcane rune with a gleam in his eyes?

Essek was already taking on a huge gamble, though. So he held back. He made it no secret that he was happy to have shared with Caleb, he complimented his quick progress.

And that was it.

Never would he have thought that Caleb's greatest accomplishment had gone completely unnoticed.

He supposed he simply hadn't been in a position to take note of it before.

The Mighty Nein’s abode was loud.

Even with Caleb’s companions scattered on different floors, the noise was never ceasing.

Sometimes it was just talking, volume rising when the discussion became particularly animated.

He could hear Nott’s shrieking as she fiddled with vials. Chemicals that should've never interacted with flammable objects

That was soon followed by screaming about fire and clattering attempts to put it out.

Then there was Jester, whom Essek could swear had spent two hours running up and down the stairs.

Unprompted, unphased, unhindered. She just ran, stomped her feet, jumped.

And Essek could hear it all.

As he was trying to learn a spell crafted by Caleb, he could hear it all, just like he could feel his own ear twitch.

Essek had thought Caleb remarkable due to how quickly he made new spells his, but now he understood. Being able to get anything done in that chaos was actually the impressive part.

Deserving of a ballad from the grandest of bards.

But he would not tell the human that, instead he kept his hand moving, his spine straight, and his ear twitching.

He did not mean to do that, but alas, being far too expressive was the one downside of being a drow.

At first his ear would perk up, pendant swaying as he tried to understand if danger was imminent. When he got used to it, and his hand stopped reaching for his component pouch, his ears still jerked. Sudden noises were still far too frequent, and Essek did not wish to lose his hearing yet.

Between lines of Caleb's equation he wondered if The Mighty Nein were being louder than usual or if he was made aware of his surroundings, needing to focus.

His earrings chimed as his ear moved, like a hasted slap to the air. A dry motion softened by the clink of silver

A few times he did it out of annoyance, admittedly.

It was distracting.

Hearing Beau scold Fjord on his form, while he was audibly in pain, was not Essek's idea of a good study environment. Especially because it reminded him that Fjord had started talking in a new accent for no apparent reason.

So at times his ears went down and back up at rapid speed. Once or twice, his pendant caught in a weird way and he'd have to start flapping his ear on purpose, to untangle it.

But both his ears perked up at Caleb’s soft exhale. That was a new sound, the promise of a chuckle at Essek’s expense.

“I thought you were immersed in your reading,” Essek accused, not looking up from his parchment.

“I may have… noticed something more entertaining.” He took a moment to wet his lips before continuing, and Essek found he wasn’t offended by his tone. “Frumpkin does that before scratching someone.”

That’s when the Shadowhand lowered his quill and looked at Caleb Widogast with a raised eyebrow. “Are you comparing me to your familiar?”

“With only the highest regard,” for once Caleb’s expression wasn’t scared much. It was almost teasing. Not challenging, never challenging, but decidedly teasing. “To the both of you.”

Part of Essek wanted to shoot something right back at Caleb, always one to strive for the last word, the wittiest reply.

But how could he do that, when it seemed like the human was starting to lower his defenses around him?

Essek would not dare chase that trust away so soon.

So he limited himself to a smile. Slightly more genuine than usual, a bit less perfect, and he closed Caleb’s grimoire before sliding it his way.

To Essek’s surprise, Caleb did not immediately put it back in his holsters. All he did was push the book further on the edge of the table, and keep his eyes on the drow.

“So, what do you think?”

Essek hummed, resting his chin on a hand for a brief moment. “In specific situations, it can be very useful. It is better than just blowing up an entire room with a Fireball, certainly.” He made a vague gesture, as if to show a physical manifestation of what he meant.

“Not quite the daily spell for you, ja?”

Essek agreed, he said he should only remember it on days that promised to be particularly…. eventful.

He did not know that he was lying at the moment.

There was something that drove him to that spell, every time he started his day.

It stuck out to him every time he thumbed through his grimoire.

At first he attributed it to how the equations were different from what he was used to. The smooth flow they held felt so strange and new, foreign, and he guessed it was fitting.

It made sense that Caleb would teach how to best manipulate the very flames that came so natural to him.

Essek could see what inspired it's creation.

But there was more to it still.

There was a need for control in that spell. It was powerful, and ofcourse it would be. Caleb was starving and thirsting for power and knowledge respectively. But the need for control was eye catching.

Looking at the spell Essek felt like he'd been handed a key without being shown a lock.

It stuck out like a bright red page, rice paper among his pale parchment.

There was something so intimate about this spell.

Something so wretched and wholesome about it.

So Essek read through it, along with others, before starting his day properly.

And thus the Shadowhand felt less lonesome. Because in a way, with soft red pages in his mind, Caleb Widogast was by his side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again I would like to thank the Essek Thelyss Fanclub Discord Server. Everyone in there is super sweet and talented and makes me want to keep on writing.
> 
> I would also like to thank you, my dear reader, for having made it this far. I hope you enjoyed this, and will be sweet enough to leave kudos or comments, as they do not only keep the strange lady that I see from the corner of my eye a little bit further away (She still inches ever closer. From the corner of my eye i see her, when i am not looking. Growing closer, closer still. I fear the moment when she reaches me. O mama, I cry for my time is running short.) but it also keeps me motivated o write that sweet sweet longing for you all!
> 
> Anyways, see ou soon, dear reader.  
> And hey,
> 
> Thanks.


	3. Something so precious about this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before you get started, I wanted to take one moment to thank you, my dear reader, for the support you have shown me thus far. Every kudo left makes my heart soar, and i really do feel blessed with every comment that you leave, i joke about creepy ladies and tentacle monsters in the closet, but the support really does mean the world to me.
> 
> honestly this is the most i've written in the least ammount of time, you all just make me want to get back to my keyboard! So thank you.
> 
> Unfortunately, the last two hapters may take a bit longer to be put up because life is really happening a lot right now, but i still hope to have completed this story by the 20th, by the end of the month at the latest. 
> 
> Again, thank you for the support and for being such an amazing and lovely person! Enjoy the chapter!

He started off by pulling back all of Caleb’s hair and combing his fingers through it.

It wasn’t particularly soft. Caleb's hair went dry towards the end, where the tips would split. He didn't even seem to have a lot of it, but it was thick and strong, and that explained the nice volume to it.

It was good hair, Essek could dip his hand in auburn and scratch at Caleb’s scalp, running down without a hitch. His mind almost scared of burning, with how reminiscent of fire those locks were.

“I’m sure a ponytail will do, I do not wish to bother you much.”

Essek smiled, letting out an audible puff of air. “Please,” he began, pressing his palms to the back of Caleb’s neck and combing his fingers upwards, right against his scalp. "If I am going to do something I'll do it well.”

When Essek had exhaled it was a deliberate message sent Caleb’s way. He wasn’t so sure the same applied to the redhead’s shaky breath as he dipped his head forward.

Essek could feel heat rise to his cheeks. It felt as if a myriad of tiny feet danced on the tips of his ears as they pointed downwards in embarrassment.

No drow in their right mind would be caught in such a situation, with so much trust given to practically stranger. Caleb didn’t even have a mirror in front of him to keep an eye on Essek, he could’ve taken out a knife and made quick work of him.

But Caleb was not a drow.

Caleb was not a drow, and so Essek tightened his grip with no aggression, right against Caleb's scalp, pulling his head up again. Caleb was pliable in his grasp, moving along as if his own muscles were guiding him.

Essek even managed to keep his hands from shaking as he reached around the human’s head, and cupped one cheek. The stubble there pricked his hand- a further reminder of how foreign Caleb was- as Essek leaned his head to the right.

He was doing this because Caleb asked. If this was not normal for humans it likely was for The Mighty Nein.

The Mighty Nein’s company was nothing short of addictive. Maybe Essek had been far too lonely, maybe they were disarmingly charming. But upon hearing that they were back again his ears stood like exclamation marks, in pure excitement. Essek jumped at the first chance he had to meet up with them.

That first chance was a study session with Caleb. That first chance was where this indecent situation presented itself.

By associating with such chaotic people, there were many a thing that Essek had come to terms with. Even considered them normal, at times.

Sure, they had cut right through the Ghost Lands, and they hunted down a white dragon, why wouldn't they.

So asking someone to do one's hair could be normal as well, after all Lolth and Asmodeus had reached an agreement. 

The Archmage's Bane was "The Happy Fun Ball" to them. The first time they mentioned it Essek went through all stages of grief fast enough to give him whiplash. Remembering it still sent his mind reeling, ears looping, too tired just by thinking. But so were things with The Mighty Nein.

The only time Essek saw someone getting their hair done by an other was back when his father was still alive. Back when Essek was still a child and the daggers in his mother's eyes softened when she looked at her right side.

But Caleb asked him to tie back his, and that meant nothing.

Because this was normal for his favourite adventurers. 

The Mighty Nein stormed in and every time made it so up was down and Exandria turned North to South. But Essek was a graviturgist and that was just enough to get over the vertigo.

Despite how strange and unusual his charges were, Essek felt confident in saying that he was used to them.

The one thing he didn't think he'd get used to anytime soon was seeing them injured. 

It didn't sit well with him.

Sure, they were adventurers, it was normal for them to come back with new scars. But with two clerics amidst their ranks, how did they manage to come back with stiff arms and dark bruises?

The drow mulled this over in his laboratory. While Caleb covered every flat surface in paper, Essek drew in some more candles to help him see better. He hoped it would be enough for the human to see as he stopped short of needing to squint.

With the new shine a dull hue took over the room, despite the candles' effort to warm the grey up. From the carved stone of the floor to the faded book spines lining the walls, Caleb was the one flare of colour.

Caleb, vibrant and excited, broke the bland palette of colours. He looked like a flower arrangement, with his carnation hair, and iris coat.

And yet it was not a good seight.

His exotic skin, usually light as cream was stained. Marked in black and purple, clashing with the cornflower blue of Caleb’s eye. The whole thing looked delicate and painful, swelled.

In a similar fashion the knuckles on his left hand were bloodied and red. Essek could only imagine what the situation was between that swollen eye, bruised lip, and pained hand.

Caleb did not move that arm more than a few inches from his body, and he never did so with haste. Even still his brows would draw together in discomfort or pain as he tried to work around it. His writing arm was well, and Essek would not bring the matter up out of politeness.

As long as Caleb said nothing of it he could bite his tongue, Essek had thought. It was no problem of his, he'd told himself,

And then Caleb had to go and make that unseemly request.

At least he had the decency to look sheepish about it, but it was scandalous even so.

Maybe he had run out of breath trying to blow his bangs out out of his face in vain. Perhaps he grew tired after tring fruitlessly to secure his hair behind an ear, so he give up.

When, from the corner of his eye, Essek saw him clench his jaw he hadn't thought that he was gathering up his courage. He hadn't thought that he needed to do the same. 

For a second Essek thought he may have entered a trance and forgotten about it. Maybe he'd finally overworked himself to the point where his body gave up on his mind and forced him into sleep. But he was well aware: brilliant as he may be, his mind could never come up with something as enchanting. Not even if that were his only focus, discarding even the instinctive breathing.

  
  


“May I request your assistance in tying it back?”

Caleb had begun his question like usual, his eyes down and avoidant. But he hadn't finished it in the same fashion. He ended his question with his good hand pushing back hair, chest open and puffed up. He looked as if he were channelling whatever pushed him to speak out when standing in front of The Bright Queen.

Essek turned to look at him, eyebrows and ears perked up, parchment still in his hand.

“What was that?” He implored for a correction of course.

“It seems that I am no longer used to having hair in my face. It is making it rather difficult to focus.” His hand slid down from his hair, closing up in a fist at his chest's height.

Essek blinked at him, trying to read the human, see if he understood, if there was malicious intent. 

Essek had no idea how to read Caleb, as his own heartbeat felt repeated in his ears.

How could he bear the absolute phonetic chaos that was his den but be disturbed by a few strands of hair?

“I… it was foolish of me to ask surely someone of your presti-”

“No, I’ll do it,” he let out in a burst of… Something.

Some emotion that he had never felt before and surely was not natural for a drow. He should have excused himself, explain that he seemed to have gotten sick, instead there he was.

Finishing a small braid before taking on the central and last portion of Caleb’s hair.

“I didn’t know you could braid.” Caleb’s voice almost startled him. Up to that point the human had been quiet. 

Save for exactly two sighs, when Essek would run his finger against his scalp to get a new section.

“Any reason why you would doubt it?”

“I suppose, since your hair is short… I suppose I never pictured you doing it.”

“I had it cut before my father left." No longer needing to add hair, the last side braid flowed from finger to finger quickly. "From then I decided it was more practical this way. Being the Shadowhand is already quite challenging, the last thing I need is to make sure I stop feeling my arms.”

There was truth in what he said. That's what he also told himself. He didn't say that he also felt he deserved short hair, after what he'd done to his father. He didn't even linger on it as he cut his hair, he had no reason to bring it up now.

He set down the finished braid, no need for a tie with such a small one. 

“Maybe," Caleb began as Essek took a hold of his temples. "I should follow your example then.”

“I would say long hair is quite becoming of you.”

He should've answered before turning Caleb's face upwards. He should not have met Caleb's eyes right as he finished that sentence.

Caleb should not have smiled like that, he had no right to steal Essek's breath, with his face framed in mauve hands.

“I will keep that into account.”

It felt too real. It felt like this could be normal. Like there could be absolute trust, for once in his life, with one person in the world, for once. It felt like there need nought be pretense, like he could just be Essek and tell him, "You'd better." and dip his hands right back into carnations.

It felt almost domestic, and that made Essek indulgent. Even if Caleb actually knew what this whole situation was, he would not call out his selfishness. And Essek felt too far away from The Shadowhand to care if Caleb secretly knew.

So he took the smallest sections he could from caleb's head, weaving them back and forth. He worked down the length with no rush, with much care, with deft fingers.

By the time he reached the end of Caleb's crown he had gotten used to the movements, to doing them on someone else.

He could've picked up speed, but Caleb seemed almost boneless, leaning into his touch.

"This one is taking longer than the others." 

Not a question, but not a complaint either, by the tone.

"I need to work with smaller sections, so that it turns out right."

"And may I ask why is that?"

"The smaller the sections the more detailed the braid." Caleb hummed in acknowledgment, and Essek continued. "There are stories of when my denmother did it, a hundred lifetimes ago. It is said that she did her whole length never taking more than twelve hairs." He left out the part about that being the moment when den Thelyss claimed this particular braid as its own.

"That sounds.... incredible. Legend, right?"

Essek chuckled. "I believe 'Insane' is the term you are looking for, Widogast. And... I do not know. While there must have been some embellishment, that woman is stubborn."

It was Caleb's turn to laugh this time, his shoulders shaking as Essek tried to distress the braid a bit. Trying to give Caleb's hair more volume without risking fallout was worse than regulating the light.

Caleb still had some hair falling on his face. Hair too short to even move off of his hairline. He was still smiling when Essek took his place next to him again, at work completed.

He had a nice silhouette like that. With two fishtails pressed to one another for a braid, proclaiming him a Thelyss fighter.

Essek's mouth felt dry, his heart too full and restricted in his own chest. He shouldn't have indulged, he realized, should not have gambled on his reaction. 

It felt too real. It felt too close to domestic.

"Thank you," Caleb said, with an apple blossom smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the essek discord server: talks about hair once when I'm asleep  
> me, furiously editing this chapter.


	4. something wretched about this

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me just say, from the bottom of my heart:
> 
> AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!!!!!!!!

For almost a year his house’s doors had been open to the Mighty Nein. In that time many a thing had changed: for starters his house looked a lot more lived in. With guests coming over quite often some stuffy chairs he needed to magically drag in each time wouldn’t do. 

So his living room met the addition of one warm carpet and many couches Jested had helped pick out. He had not intended to go buy new furniture with her. Even tried to refuse her help, but her stubbornness prevailed, and he was thankful for it. In retrospect. If only for the fainting couch that had quickly become his favourite piece. It was beautiful and dignified, and cozy. More cozy than Essek had ever thought possible, especially with the throw pillows on it. 

He'd thought he would agree with Fjord, say it was an outrageous amount. But they were so comfortable, and Jester had insisted he deserved things that made his feel nice. And she kept bringing them to him as gifts.

Some other things that The Nein would leave behind were not gifts, but little accidents, slips of the mind.

They went anywhere from small trinkets like Jester’s horn jewels or Beau’s darts, to bigger things, like any item of Beau’s clothing, or her staff. 

Once Caduceus forgot a shovel.

Essek was confused, had about seventeen different questions, but he never asked.

He gathered the items in a basket. He would bring them to his adventurers, or have them sent, before they could leave again.

At the moment the basket held Caleb’s scarf, forgotten at the change of the season.

Two seasons prior. 

Winter left and spring followed, and in the middle of summer, Essek started running out of excuses as to why he kept forgetting the perfumed scarf.

Surely he would remember next time Caleb came over.

That was another thing that started happening. The Nein would come into his house, often unannounced, not to ask for any favour, but to spend time with him.

Often it wasn’t even all of them.

At times it was just Caleb.

Upon inquiring the human told him that he "Thought Essek might enjoy company without the burden of a large group". He was right, ofcourse. Essek did love being with The Nein. It was better than most events at court, that was certain. But sometimes it left him feeling… drained.

He was more willing and able to spend time with The Nein than any ball, he actually adored being involved. But he still ended up feeling tired, craving silence.

If he had to be honest, Essek would have said that some people did not need to be met in large groups to be tiresome. But Caleb was not among them.

Caleb was very welcome in his visits, often alone, but seldom solitary.

He would come bearing reminders that the adventurers thought of him. Pastries that Jester had found in hidden corners of Exandria. Terrible smut, courtesy of Beau, spirits so strong his nose burned soon as unbottled.

At times, like this one, Caleb would carry gifts he’d picked himself. 

He stood there outside his door, in a light shirt and a small wooden box with golden swirls on it. 

“Hallo,” he said with a sparkle in his eye and a smile on his lips.

Essek welcomed him in, an before he knew it the conversation had already started off in every language they knew.

Some words were exchanged, about Essek not being informed that The Nein were back. The box passed from hand to hand, and Frumpkin stepped on his shoulder, to nuzzle Essek's throat.

He scratched behind the cat’s ears until it was content enough to jump off of him, to claim a throw-pillow for a nap. In the meantime he listened to how his adventurers had just come in from the far south.

“And is that where this comes from?” He put his hand down, going to open the box.

“We found a magical shop run by locals. They have similar elements, but with a unique spin. They are…” At first glace Essek thought Caleb had given him a box full of precious gems. The texture, however, was distinct and unmistakable. 

Caleb had given him a box of chalk, sticks the colour of lapis lazuli, with black and golden arabesque swirls “... Different.”

Essek could not help but look at Caleb with an open mouth, wide eyes, and his ears slick in shock.

“I- ah. I hope you like them.” Caleb seemed to lose a bit of his confidence, which was absolutely ridiculous.

“Of course,” He began, barely finding his words through the haze of feelings about such a gift. “But Caleb, these are-”

“Nein, bitte. I want you to have them.” now, Essek may have been a man of refined taste, but he was also practical. With items like chalk he didn’t care for them to be impressive, he would run through them too quickly regardless. Certainly, there were times when he wanted to show off, flex his status and capabilities. He did set aside some very nice chalks, to use around Cassandra Theenkhas, but even then, these felt like too much.

What would be an appropriate reaction. How did friends show gratefulness for such a gift?

Essek swallowed his next words. He was slow on the draw, and he couldn’t stop the sharp intake of air, but he still stopped his words of protest and put on a smile. He ignored how warm his ears felt, now actively pressing down in bashfulness. 

He squeezed Caleb’s arm, just above the elbow, and thanked him without breaking eye contact.

Once again they spoke with more than the language of words, but this time Essek didn't follow. Caleb smiled and held onto Essek’s arm as well. He was the first one to step away, but his hand lingered on his arm. Trailing for a moment as the human started towards the staircase. Leaving Essek feeling confused. Feeling like his arm was on fire, and his heart would burst clean through his chest with the strength of it’s beating.

What was that?

He had no time to linger on the thought like he wanted to. He was certain that it would haunt his waking hours and be focus of his next meditative state. That was the destiny of most of his interactions with Caleb, at this point. But those were thoughts for later. If Essek didn't hurry Caleb would soon notice he wasn't being followed, and Essek could only dread the thought.

Frumpkin mewed at him from atop a sofa, mocking little fey. He offered no comfort, only observed how their interactions devolved while purring. 

More happened when Caleb came to visit, they had a routine. But Essek could only focus on haunting touches and lingering ghosts of warmth. 

They would march to Essek’s library and quietly go about their research or recreational reading. It was habit and it was enjoyable. 

Essek had discovered a small pleasure in knowing Caleb was comfortable around him. He didn't need guidance around the wizard's tower, so he forewent formal invitations.

He had even stopped waiting for Essek to draw a book out for him, after enough reassuring that Essek did not mind. Caleb could go through most of his library, long as he took nothing. 

They blamed it on knowing what happened to books that got too close to Jester, but the reason was deeper and darker. Being an adventurer was never safe, after all, and they both knew how hard it was to keep a good collection whole.

Essek watched as Caleb picked out a book with a dark red spine and went to sit in an armchair under too many candles. 

There were so many candles all over his house, now, all under the spell to turn on when a human walked through a door.

The Nein had changed his life so much he couldn’t think of his library as anything but bathed in warm amber anymore. The room smelled of leatherbound books and enveloping incense, feeling wrong without smooth wax on top.

The warm bubble changed sound, not far off from a spell, but Essek could not detect any magic. Every sound felt bass heavy, closer, not upon being made, but in the place they were perceived. 

From where he sat he could feel Caleb’s soft breaths as if filling his own lungs. Every turned page made a phantom texture dance a teasing twirl on his fingertips.

It was nice.

Few people seemed to understand how much company one can keep without needing to speak, but Caleb was one of them. 

Not pressing, not demanding, a soft abettor.

So they read, relishing in each other’s presence, only reminded by pages turning.

At some point even that became synchronized: three times they made identical sounds, the fourth time they met eyes. Twin amused sparks between cornflowers and peonies.

The forth time Essek chuckled, but it still took one more for him to lower his papers and break the silence.

“How odd this is. Tell me, is-” He sent a quick glance at the book’s spine. “-<<Separated by the storm>>, as heavy a read as Kryn inner policies?”

It was Caleb's turn to lower his reading, placing it still open where his leg bent to find his place under Caleb.

“Well, it’s either that, or you are not reading your documentation with the appropriate care.”

Before he knew it Essek left out a quick exhale, his lips splitting in a smile much wider than he ever allowed himself. It was improper, it wrinkled the skin around his eyes, his lips thin, and gums exposed. And it was far too common when around Caleb.

He still tried to hide it. He had no control over his lips, but at least he could turn his face sideways. Tongue feeling his sharp fangs, he he readied something witty to shoot back at the human, but alas it was never used.

Whatever he’d come up with died far from his lips when he turned his eyes back on Caleb.

Still sitting in his armchair, he had an arm bent, hand pressed to his chest as he unbuttoned his shirt sleeve. 

And he was rolling it down.

Unashamed and bold, he folded and rolled linen exposing warm skin. Essek’s mouth was dry, lungs ablaze, and he could not tear his eyes away from the exotic, sinful, pale skin exposed. 

How could Caleb just do that?

Essek could feel his ears standing at the ready, tips burning with the heat of the blush overtaking him. 

How was Essek supposed to respond?

Caleb’s arms were dusted with scars. White and red arabesque swirls of precise etchings, powerful survival to things Essek could not even imagine.

Essek’s head was a cacophony of thoughts. Some angry for the pain Caleb must have endured, protective. Some were impressed with the show of force that Caleb’s mere existence was. Some part of him was just screaming, unprepared for such a show of indecency from the human.

He was certain he would faint soon, as his blood kept on frantically running in different parts of his being. His mind tried to catch back up after the stutter at the first glimpse of the indecent spectacle.

But Caleb had no mercy.

He slit his leg out from beneath him, and with both feet on the ground, legs open, he slid down his seat. He was holding his book with one naked arm, as the other one held up his head.

Caleb’s thumb pressed to his lip, pulling it down a little, dragging Essek’s eyes with the movement.

He just sat there, improper and inviting, irresistible. All he needed to do was read a book, and Essek would come undone. He felt light headed, his chest about to burst, his legs about to drag him into an irreversible decision. 

And Essek had read about incubi, but he doubted their pull was anywhere near the spectacle in front of him.

Caleb looked up, over the edge of his book, under half lidded eyes. A fiendish smile found it’s way on his lips, pink and chapped, and the central focus of Essek's attention.

Before he could speak, Essek stood up. He dropped the almost forgotten reports in a pocket dimension with a flick of the wrist. “Last time he was here, Caduceus brought some tea,” He threw out, too quick for his liking. “I found it is very good served cold with honey. Would you like some? To freshen up a little.”

Essek counted himself lucky, because Caleb was not cruel and let him go, accepted the offer.

And if Essek floated all the way to his kitchen, that was a matter between himself and his cowardice.

And if Essek floated all the way to his to try and calm his nerves. He knew exactly how many seconds he'd spared himself, and that was his count down as he held onto his kitchen table.

He needed to rationalize, to think. Because the library was made too hot by the candles, and the chill of the lower level would need to function as a cold shower.

That was probably it, caleb was trying to be more comfortable. And the gesture had sent Essek into a frenzy, inro panic, in a haste.

For the first time in his life Essek found himself invoking a God, because for the first time, he understood.

And Luxon help him, he had it bad for this human.


	5. get closer to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. If you remeber this chapter being previously posted and also being completely diferent.. Yeah, I re wrote it because there were some things I'd overseen during the writing process. 
> 
> I hope this time it's better?   
> I really want the last chapter to be satifying, but I've re-written this chapter about eight times now, and idek if any feeling gomes through anymore. I hope you'll enjoy.
> 
> Please do let me know.

With the realization of his feelings came a somewhat strange sense of serenity. 

Caleb had not managed to charm him, Essek was not going insane or soft. He was not a strange one for his kind, his heart beating at rhythms never meant for a drow. 

Essek was just a fool, and Caleb was wonderful. 

On the other hand, with this kind of realization new problems arose. Some had probably been there far longer, but now Essek could not help but notice. 

Like the way his eyes were constantly drawn back to Caleb. How he could not help but notice every time he brought his thumb to his lip, how he bit his nails while concentrating. 

And now Essek realized that around Caleb his practiced smile fell off, it’s place taken by something more genuine. His cheeks would hurt from the overuse of muscles, his sharp teeth never hidden behind thin lips. And he couldn't stop it, not around Caleb. 

And then he started wondering if he was too obvious. Did Caleb know that every time his hands lingered on the drow his skin lit up? Did The Nein make it so essek and Caleb were always next to each other on purpose? It was always the person sitting next to him that would get up and invite Essek to sit. Always the person walking next to caleb that would pull Essek close, into step, and then slip away.

They surely knew.

Why else would Essek be lying in a hut, pressed up to Caleb otherwise? 

Well. 

Actually The Nein had asked for help on a mission, and Essek had not had the forethought to prepare a spell for the night. But he was still certain that the arrangement had not been accidental.

They said that since none of them had fey lineage they might forget the very information they were entering the Feywild for. They said that they didn't trust just any elf to accompany them, and Essek was but a simple mortal. 

The Nein sent Caleb out to ask a favour of him, and Essek agreed. 

And that agreement had lead him to an unrelentless dusk. To a grass that is too green. To Caleb's eyes now looking more like sapphires than cornflowers. To Essek's heart threatening to give out any moment. 

The last part of that wasn't much of a change, but Essek had decided that having something to blame would make it easier on him. So the Feywild became the excuse for a love that wouldn't let him think straight.

And because of all this, Essek found himself burning up. A fiery wizard to his left, a sapphire tiefling to his right.

This was more physical contact than what Essek'd had in 120 years.

With everyone of Jester’s deep breaths, he could feel his arm move a little. 

Over his head Fjord snored softly. He would deny it in the morning, but he most definitely snored, since Yasha had stopped when she turned to her side. 

Caleb lay to his right, touching Essek in two and a half separate points: his knee to Essek's thigh, their arms flush against each other above the elbow, and Caleb's breath tickled the skin on Essek’s shoulder. 

It was so warm, so intimate.

The worst part of this was just how ordinary every touch was. There was a solid weight, a meaning behind the casual touches, and Essek couldn't understand how someone like him had ended up there. He didn’t deserve it.

He was tense. 

Unconsciousness was not an escape route. With the way every atom in his body payed attention to the warmth around him, meditation was out of the question.

So he lay there, among his sleeping friends. Among the people that kept trusting and caring for him. And he couldn’t understand why they did it.

He understood the full weight of their trust, but how could he defend them all?

He was tense, he knew that, so it was no surprise when he almost jumped out of his skin, as something wrapped around his leg.

"It's just Jester." Caleb’s hand had already found his own, covering it and giving a gentle squeeze. He probably meant for it to be calming, instead Essek’s heart skipped so many beats as it fell into his gut. "She usually wraps her tail around my leg, it's fine." His voice was whisper, and the heart at the pit of Essek tuned into a simmering heat.

He looked down, already knowing that Caleb was right. Jester’s tail was wrapped around his calf, the tiefling still breathing in steady and deep. Essek looked around, nobody else seemed awake.

"I’m sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." 

"No need, I wasn't sleeping yet."

Caleb’s hand was still on his. Warm and unmoving. Did Caleb think he still needed reassurance? Maybe he’d forgotten he’d left it there. 

Surely Caleb wouldn’t want it there, why would he. 

Essek couldn’t bring himself to remind him, he was so selfish, leaning into the warmth, hoping Caleb might start rubbing circles onto his skin.

He should’ve let Caleb know, so he could take his hand back.

“Do you always sleep like this, with your companions?” he asked instead.

Caleb hummed.

There was a wet sound and Essek ached to look, catch a glimpse as he wet his lips. That would be foolish, Essek was already too far gone, fallen too deep. He needed to keep his eyes on the aber dome, on the sky in the distance. “I do apologize. Certainly you are used to better accommodation.”

“It’s not that, It’s…” He hesitated to finish that sentence. He could lie, he should have never started it. And still the words tumbled out, honest and vulnerable. “I must admit, I feel like an intruder.”

Essek had never regretted words so raptly. Not because of how defenseless he felt after them, he could be that with The Nein. He was safe with Caleb. 

No, the regret came from Caleb taking his hand away. 

The loss immediately left Essek feeling cold, skin tingling where there had been contact. 

There was an open war between Essek and his body. A fight not to chase after the heat of Caleb, to force his lungs to keep functioning as Caleb entered his field of view. 

He was propping himself up on one arm, looking down at Essek. His hair fell down his face like a frame, shone like a halo on fire with the way they caught the light from the sun.

And he was looking at him, blue eyes a beacon in all the heat.

In that moment Caleb could have pulled him down to the Abyss or up to the Heavens, Essek would’ve been fine with either.

As long as he kept looking at him, as long as Caleb looked and saw him, Essek would care for nothing else.

He was helpless.

“Never.” Caleb licked his lips, before continuing, and Essek was utterly lost, unable to take his eyes away. “Essek there is nobody that we’d rather- That I would rather have.” Essek swallowed, he was losing the battle with his lungs, as Caleb added, “Here, with us.” softly, like an afterthought.

“And you mean it?” He asked, not missing the way Caleb’s eyes slit to his lips. No way to deny it this time. “It’s not about needing someone to remember the Feywild? Someone to teach you magic, to land you a book you can’t otherwise find?” At some point Essek had started tilting his face up, pulled to Caleb like a magnet.

“Those were all nice things,” Caleb doesn’t deny, and it’s nice that he won’t lie to him. “They all let me spend more time with you.”

He was so close, his body screamed of intent, but what if Essek was misinterpreting? What if he was being vane, or simply too hopeful. “And was that good?”

Caleb was warm above him, the air charged with something beyond arcane power.

“No.” Essek was breathless, disoriented. “It was never enough, I may be selfish, but I always wanted more.”

Would Essek dare?

His entire body felt on fire, foreign.

He watched, as if scrying, while his own arm lifted. He combed his fingers through thick locks of fire, moved them away from Caleb’s face.

Would Essek dare?

Caleb leaned into his touch, even smiled at him. 

They were warm, pressed to his family. But The Nein were asleep, and Caleb looked at him as if they were completely alone, as if they were the last two living beings on any plane of existence.

Essek leaned up, his body starting to feel his again.

He must have been dreaming, passed out due to the stress. Or maybe Caleb would lean away, tell Essek that he had somehow misunderstood. 

Instead he leaned down, meeting Essek halfway. 

His lips were warm, and gentle, and chapped. The kiss was short, barely more than a press of skin to skin, and it shook Essek to his core. It felt like being finally grounded, like being finally allowed to breathe and stop holding himself underwater.

For a moment Caleb broke the kiss, Essek could see a smile on those lips, before they were kissing again. The angle slightly different, Caleb’s arm snaking across Essek’s stomach, drawing him closer, closer still.

Again, the kiss was short, broke off as Caleb let out a little puff of a smile. Essek’s heart was racing, fluttering away from him and into Caleb’s hold where it belonged. 

He didn’t have time to mourn it as Caleb descended on his lips again, still trying to school his lips away from a smile too wide for kissing.

There was no hope of counting how many times they broke off, Caleb too happy to stop smiling long enough to deepen a touch. Essek didn’t complain. He couldn’t. He didn’t even have the presence of mind to recall when he’d laid back down on the ground.

None of this could be real, Essek was far too happy for this to be real. But how could his mid have come up with the way Caleb's eyes looked this close?

“I think you broke me,” Caleb murmured half a breath from his lips. “I can’t stop smiling.”

And Essek didn’t respond he just kissed him again. Caleb was just as guilty, a grown drow should never fall so hard for someone, he'd broken Essek right back. 

They kept kissing, breaking off to smile, to whisper sweet accusations. They held each other until they fell asleep. They would need to have a serious conversation soon, but for the night, they just held each other.

Caleb’s last words that night were about wishing he wouldn't forget the Feywild, wouldn't forget Essek’s kisses.

**Author's Note:**

> Glad you made it to this point, dear reader.
> 
> Please do leave a comment, since they keep me alive and writing, and also they are the only way to quenh the neverending tentacle monser hiding in the fourth dimension that has opened inside of my closet. It feeds on validation and my flesh if validation is not available. If you wish to read more from me, please keep me alive and don't let me get vored?
> 
> And hey,
> 
> Thanks.


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